


My you look like a lion don't you?

by AnimatedFilmAU (WritLarge)



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 08:47:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4428974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritLarge/pseuds/AnimatedFilmAU
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From tumblr (ohcorny):<br/>beauty and the beast au where belle’s dad is the one that breaks the spell by loving the beast like the son he never had</p><p>An AU in which some rambling on Maurice's part changes the course of the story entirely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My you look like a lion don't you?

**Author's Note:**

> The story follows the film up until Maurice, having gotten lost in the woods during a storm, finds shelter in the enchanted castle and is confronted by the Beast. In my interpretation, Adam was cursed by the Enchantress at age 21 and the curse has kept the entire castle frozen in time for ten years.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” the monster growled at him.

“I was lost in the woods and… oh,” Maurice took in the hulking form of the creature with round eyes. His thoughts were scrambled by exhaustion and fear, and he continued to speak without thinking. “My you look like a lion don't you?”

“W- what did you say?” the monster halted its prowl mid-step. The little teapot and her friends had scattered away from where Maurice sat.

“I'm sorry. I- I just thought. I saw a lion once. In Paris. I-” he stammered on. For a moment, Maurice was certain he'd be thrown out into the night or worse. 

“I am not a lion,” the man-lion snapped. “I am a beast. That's what she made me and I won't be stared at like a monster.”

“Made you? S-someone *achoo* someone did this to you? How awful.” Maurice shivered, clutching the blanket he'd been given. After a long pause, the beast sat back on his haunches, still holding himself tensely while he stared at Maurice.

“It was a curse.”

“Oh no. Are you hurt? I've heard stories. It's never- *achoo* !” Maurice wiped his nose on the back of his hand. “I've never met a sorcerer myself, but I can only imagine-”

“An enchantress.” The words were mumbled and hard for Maurice to make out.

“E-excuse me?”

“It was an enchantress,” the beast spat, nostrils flaring. 

“Oh,” he replied weakly. Maurice was cold and tired and apparently out of his head enough to be rambling on and asking a monstrous beast personal questions. The weariness was catching up with him now though. He was just losing consciousness when he heard the beast bellow.

“Take him to a guest room.”

 

***

 

Maurice awoke surrounded by plush blankets and feather pillows. Not his usual bed at all. He felt warm and safe, despite the aches that lingered in his body. That's right. He'd been caught in the storm.

“Good morning. I thought you might stir about now,” the cheery teapot greeted him. A talking teapot?

“Oh!” The events of his arrival rushed back to him. Maurice remembered the castle and its servants now, and how they'd tried to help. He remembered the cursed beast too. “I thought I must have been dreaming.” 

“I'm afraid not, my dear.” The teapot, Mrs. Potts, went on to explain how they'd brought him upstairs at the master's order. She plied him with tea and broth.

He had so many questions! A curse, the creature had said. Thankfully, the motherly teapot didn't mind explaining.

“And we've been under the curse ever since.” It was just as awful as he'd thought it might be. Cursed at twenty-one, the entire castle suffering the same fate, all because of a foolish selfish mistake. It seemed unfairly harsh to Maurice. That such a monstrous being was actually a young man, only a few years older than Belle… and the staff! Furniture and crockery and the like, what an indignity. The cup he'd drunk from the night before had giggled like a child. It wasn't right.

“What sort of enchantress is this? Cursing a whole castle. I thought they were supposed to be benevolent. This is terrible.”

Mrs. Potts smiled sadly in agreement, but a loud creak from the floorboards in the hall interrupted the moment. A reluctant looking beast appeared in the doorway, the candelabra and the clock at his heels.

“My lord?”

“I was just checking on our guest.”

“He's doing much better,” Mrs. Potts answered. “He'll be right as rain in a day or two. The stormy weather will be long past by then.”

“Good. That's… good,” he nodded and turned to go. Then he hesitated. “I-I didn't mean to frighten you earlier. I-” The master of the castle trailed off. In that moment, with his awkwardly hunched shoulders, the beast seemed like nothing more than a very lonely and wounded young man. How long had he been under the curse?

“Well, I'm sure you're hardly used to guests are you?” His host turned back to him in surprise.

“No.” Look at him, Maurice thought. His fur was quite matted and his clothing practically in rags. Didn't the servants tend to him? They'd certainly been attentive to Maurice. Perhaps he didn't let them.

“How long has it been since-?” Maurice gestured around him. 

“Just a little more than ten years now,” answered Mrs. Potts.

“Ten years! Have you aged at all since then?” 

“I'm not sure,” the Beast rumbled. On the tray, Mrs. Potts was shaking her, well, her whole self really, but her meaning was clear. 

Maurice wondered if anyone else had ever stumbled upon them, but it seemed unlikely. The castle was dark and foreboding, and fairly well hidden. He'd never have found it himself it not by chance. Perhaps that was part of the curse?

The master of the palace had fixed his gaze on the carpet. He didn't look entirely comfortable, half a step inside the room, but if he'd wanted to leave surely he'd have done so? Was he ashamed of his form now, staying only because he felt obligated to a guest? Or was it something else? The servants did seem a little afraid of him. But surely, beastly curse or not, he was only human?

“You're quite majestic looking aren't you? I think I compared you to a lion before but I'm not sure that's right now that I can see you properly.”

“You've seen an actual lion?” 

“Oh yes, in Paris once. When I was a young man.”

“You must travel a great deal then. I'm sure you're eager to go.” His tone was, odd. Bitter? Despondent?

“He should stay until the weather improves,” said Mrs. Potts in a chastising tone.

“I'm not eager to leave this warm bed for damp chills, but my daughter will worry for me. Especially if Philippe makes his way back home.” The terrified horse had fled into the storm. He'd find his way home in the daylight once he regained his wits.

“Do you think she'd come here?” the eavesdropping wardrobe asked wistfully.

“She probably would at that! Belle can be very headstrong,” Maurice admitted, not a little proud at his daughter's clever self-reliance. He liked to think some of the cleverness came from him, her curiosity and stubbornness certainly did. Her mother had been much more level headed, which thankfully Belle had inherited some degree of as well or their household would have fallen to pieces years ago.

“We will look out for her then!” the enthusiastic candelabra cried.

“Oh would you?”

“I won't have her here,” his host scowled. “If she comes-”

“Master-”

“No!” he shouted and everyone froze. Slowly, the anger that had overtaken him eased. The beast looked at Maurice for a long moment while he calmed. 

“I-” Maurice began. He had no intentions of imposing, but the master was focused on his own thoughts.

“She can come to the castle,” he conceded, “but only to see you. Keep her away from me. I won't be stared at like a freak.” Oh. Of course. An old man would be one thing, a pretty girl quite another. Yes, there was quite a lot shame there. Shame and fear and anger and hurt… it made Maurice want to hug him. An odd impulse perhaps, but Maurice had always been more open hearted and idealistic than sensible.

“I can promise you, Belle would never-” but the cursed young man was long gone before Maurice could reassure him.

 

*** 

 

Belle arrived a day later on the back of Philippe. She was sick with worry but her concern was quickly overcome by awe, curiosity, and delight once she realized that Maurice was being well cared for in an enchanted castle.

Bella had always been eager for adventure and new experiences, devouring books about fairy tales and far off places. If she'd been a boy Maurice would have begun taking her with him on his travels already. Unfortunately, the places and predicaments he often found himself in were hardly safe for a pretty young girl. Belle was far too lovely to go unnoticed long. Perhaps now that she was older? She was certainly taking their current situation in stride.

"So he offered us his hospitality but he won't see us himself?" she asked, after a longish explanation, frequently interrupted and added to by the furnishings whose names he was still trying to get straight. His daughter drank in the tale eagerly and her enthusiasm at a magical adventure was hardly dampened by the fact that their host was trapped in the form of a monstrous creature.

"Well, you see, he..." Maurice trailed off, not entirely certain how to spare her feelings. He wasn't even sure what to call him except master of the castle, given that he'd decided that morning he was going to stop thinking of the cursed young man as a beast. It just wouldn't do.

"Oh," Belle's brow furrowed. "It's just me he doesn't want to see."

"It's not you miss," the candelabra Lumiere said, gesturing as he tried to find the he right word. "The master is..."

"Shy," the wardrobe filled the pause.

Lumiere snorted.

Shy wasn't the word Maurice would have used either. The cursed master of the castle was brusque, quick tempered, defensive, and poorly mannered, but shy? Awkward was a better description. Maurice sympathized. He'd never been very good with people himself.

"He's been cursed a very long time Belle. He called himself a monster when we first met." Maurice chose not to mention the more threatening aspects of the encounter.

"That's so tragic, Papa," Belle said, no doubt thinking of the ridiculously fanciful romances she sometimes dwelled on. Still, Belle never seemed to expect the men she knew to live up to those standards. She generally didn't seem interested in marriage at all yet, which suited Maurice just fine, thank you.

"He won't thank you for that," Mrs. Potts looked at her seriously. "The master has no patience for pity."

"I guess I wouldn't either if I were in his place. It's very generous of him to let us stay if he prefers the solitude." He knew his daughter would understand. It was a lesser hurt, but Maurice and Belle were often looked down upon as well. The two of them had experienced the judgmental stares and comments of enough folk to take care in not inflicting the same on others. 

"Just because he's used to it doesn't mean it's best," the teapot said, and Maurice could see her point as well. He felt for the boy, or man he supposed. So young. No, pity wouldn't help, but a sympathetic friend might. Maurice resolved to speak to him at the first opportunity, and if his offer of friendship was rebuffed, he could at least make his gratitude plain. 

Belle was soon settled into another room. They'd head home in a couple of days at most.

 

***

 

Maurice had thought that, ensconced away as they were in the far end of the east wing, they'd make little trouble for the staff. The servants had other plans. They delighted in providing Maurice and Belle with clothes and producing ever more elaborate meals, despite their attempts at being unobtrusive. They'd been quite starved for company and couldn't resist showing off. Not a few were eager to forge closer acquaintance as well, making for many warm and fascinating conversations. As the days passed and Maurice's strength returned, father and daughter both came to realize that they were far happier here in the castle than they had ever been in the village.

"Are you sure? I- I mean, of course you're welcome to stay. As long as you like." 

"Thank you. I think we will.” Maurice patted the clawed hand on the bench that he and his host shared. The young man held very stilted conversation with Maurice, but he was trying, and Maurice wasn't terrible good at idle chatter himself. Still, their friendship was growing. That his host no longer flinched away from physical contact was progress too. 

“I quite like it here and I don't think Belle would ever forgive me for tearing her away from your library so soon." That got him a small smile. The library had been suggested after Belle openly lamented a dearth of reading material. She'd gasped in delight upon first seeing it and Maurice had lost her for a good day before she'd reemerged, breathless and starving. She was also often in the company of a few particular members of the staff. He was glad to see her so happy. Belle hadn't had any friends in the village that he'd known of, unless you counted the elderly bookshop owner. Perhaps things could be different here.

She had asked after the master of the castle a few times, knowing that he visited Maurice, but curiosity aside she'd respected his desire for privacy. 

"On another note, now that we're staying I would like something proper to call you. Unless you'd rather me call you master like everyone else?"

"No," came the flustered reply. “You don't need to do that.”

“Then you had better tell me your name.” The young man shifted beside him. “Well then?”

“Adam,” he said.

“Adam? A fine name. Not very common though. I would have expected something more...” Maurice wasn't sure. More french? Adam was biblical but hardly traditional.

“Mother wanted to name me Félix. It would have been ironic.” 

“You don't talk of them often, your parents,” he broached the subject carefully. None of the servants would say much about them except to note that they'd been dead by the time the castle had been cursed.

“My mother did not survive the still birth of my brother and my father...” Adam's voice broke a little and he left the sentence to hang. The conversation died a quick death after that, to Maurice's dismay, and Adam disappeared into the forbidden west wing. 

 

***

 

The following week, the servants helped Belle and Maurice make arrangements for a trip to their cottage so that they could gather the few personal things that were irreplaceable to them. They were able to make the journey there and back in less than a day and with little notice from the village. No one had followed them. Maurice wasn't sure that other people would react as he and Belle had to the enchanted castle and he'd rather not find out. By the time they were finished, Adam had reappeared and helped Maurice move his equipment. Once Belle was elsewhere of course.

A workshop was easily constructed within the mostly empty castle. Being surrounded by stonework was a comforting change, as he needn't worry quite so much about sparks. Adam had begun to spend the better part of his days there with Maurice, who learned to sense when the master of the castle was on the brink of a depressive episode. It wasn't as obvious as when his temper flared, but Maurice learned the signs quickly and discovered that giving him something to do was the best solution. Inventions aside, the exterior of the castle had been aging and deteriorating even while the curse magic kept the interior in tact. So he'd put them both to work checking the roofing, repairing the stables, and so on, sometimes mending some of the broken woodwork inside that had clearly suffered Adam's wrath (Cogsworth had caught them at it one afternoon and quietly assured Maurice that none of the things Adam had broken over the years had previously been people). It worked surprisingly well. Adjusting the handles on some of the tools had been all that was required to tame Adam's frustrations. Maurice found it all rather fun. The young man was an eager learner, with strength to spare and no end of time. 

Belle helped as well, though more in planning than actual work. Her research on the castle architecture and interior style was invaluable, though Adam was still determined not to interact with her, even if he had switched to wearing proper clothing. Maurice continued to feel the surging curiosity from his daughter when they ate together, but she never complained when asked to spend her time elsewhere so that Adam could emerge. Still. He wouldn't put it past her to sneak a glance or two from the windows.

All in all, Maurice was quite content.

 

***

 

Days passed, turning to weeks and then months, the enchanted castle becoming more of a welcoming home than their cottage had ever been. 

Maurice largely forgot that there was anything strange at all about their circumstances. Belle on the other hand, she revelled in the fantastical nature of it. She'd absorbed the information about the curse and converted her curiosity into action, interrogating the servants and scouring the library for sources. Belle had even taken Philippe a few times and ventured into other towns, discretely seeking more information about magic and its wielders. Nothing had come of it yet, but she was a determined girl and not likely to give up anytime soon. He was quite proud of how she'd taken up the plight of the castle and its inhabitants as her own, even as he worried for her safety. At least she'd befriended the staff and always had a small entourage ready to accompany her on her journeys. There were no judgmental looks or pressures to conform here. 

Well, almost none.

The servants that understood the curse were sure that if Belle could fall in love with Adam their curse would be broken. They'd taken to subtly trying to push the two of them together wherever possible. Their master was having none of it. Belle was appalled as well. She'd gotten enough of that in the village with that brute Gaston. A situation Maurice hadn't realized the extent of until Belle had confessed one evening. She hadn't wanted to worry him. 

He wished he'd noticed how increasingly agitated the servants had started to get, however. Mrs. Potts had tried to warn him. It had all come to a head one rainy afternoon when Belle arrived at his workshop in tears.

“They locked us in! Oh Papa, you should have seen him. He was so horrified. I know everyone is upset about the curse, they think it's going to be permanent soon, but even so.”

“Oh dear.”

“I wasn't afraid of him,” she insisted. Maurice believed her.

“Of course not. I'm only glad they let you out,” but perhaps that wasn't right, because Belle frowned.

“They didn't. Adam told me to stay on the other side of the room and then tore the door off its hinges,” she gave him a weak smile. “You'll have to fix that later.”

“Indeed.” It was a testament as to how much better Adam was with his temper that he hadn't gone on a rampage and had instead retreated to lick his wounds, so to speak. “Well, I'd better go and see him.”

“Please Papa, tell him I'm sorry. I didn't know they'd do that. I would like to talk to him but… not like that.”

“I'll make sure he knows.” 

Maurice cleaned his hands on a rag and made his way to the west wing. Adam defended the space viciously according to the staff, but Maurice wasn't about to leave him be now or he'd hide there wallowing in depression and self-hatred for days. Technically he'd poked his head in once or twice before, though it had only been for a moment. Adam often brought things out for repair, so Maurice wasn't thrown in the least by the destruction that littered the hall and rooms. 

“Go away,” Adam sat hunched in upon himself in the doorway of the balcony, lit only by the eerie light of the cursed rose. Belle had very detailed notes on what she'd learned about roses and magic.

“You can't scare me off you know.”

“Leave me alone. You should be with Belle.” Maurice ignored the command and lowered himself to the floor to join Adam. 

“She doesn't scare easily either. Belle knows you're no monster. She had no idea what they were planning you know. She's more concerned about you.”

“Me?” Adam finally raised his head. “Why?”

“After all the time we've been here, can't we care about you?”

“I don't know why you would,” he said.

“Now you're just being foolish.” Maurice leaned against Adam, throwing and arm across his broad back. It was an awkward hug, but a hug all the same.

Adam stared at the sparkling rose, a single petal still clinging stubbornly to the stem. 

“Don't they know I'd release them if I could? Why she cursed them along with me... It's not their fault.” Guilt sighed out of him, adding another layer to the misery that cloaked the room.

“She shouldn't have cursed anyone at all! Such an excessive punishment. Really! You've done surprisingly well under such horrific circumstances, you know.” Adam shrugged self consciously the way he always did when Maurice praised him.

“And even if what they say about the rose is true,” Maurice nodded towards the wilting flower, “it doesn't matter to me. Beast or not, we're family now, by choice if not by blood. Curse or no curse.”

“Maurice-”

“Hush Adam. You're as true a son as I'll ever have and I love you dearly, though I do wish you'd try to get to know Belle better. I think she could use a brother as much as you a sister.”

“You- you can't say things like that,” Adam stuttered, shaking his head.

“Of course I can. It's only the truth. You needn't ever worry about being alone again, I promise you, and if you ask me this wing is a disgrace. It's no good for you to hideaway up here. We should clean it out.” Suddenly, a flash of light from the window that caught his eye. What in Heaven''s name was that? Streaks of colour crashed onto the stone of the balcony in a shower of sparks. The air became tense and the wind picked up, sending the tattered curtains flapping. It was amazing.

“Oh my.” Maurice squeezed Adam on the shoulder and received a pained noise in response.

“Adam?”

“I- something's wrong.” The room seemed to tremble and an unusual fog swirled around them. 

“What? Adam-” Maurice reached out but Adam gasped and pushed himself back.

He was glowing.

Magic. It had to be. The light began to travel through Adam's body. He looked terrified. Maurice took a moment to run to the door and shout for Belle, who knew far more about magic than he did, before hastening back to Adam.

His eyes were closed now. The magic that filled the room and sent papers flying was focused on Adam, lifting him off the floor and into the air where he spun. Maurice looked for the source, but there was no Enchantress to be seen. Only the rose, its last petal having finally dropped from its stem.

“Adam!” he called. The light was almost blinding now.

“Papa?” Belle and several of the servants had come running. They now all stood staring in awe at the sight before them. Adam was obscured by the intensity of the light that then gave one final burst before snuffing out, the dwindling magic lowering him to the floor.

Maurice hurried to his side. Adam was breathing, thank God. He gently turned the young man onto his back, longish hair falling across an unblemished face, all traces of the curse gone. The clothes Adam wore sagged on his reduced frame, making him look small.

“Oh Adam,” Maurice pressed a kiss to his brow. A zing of… something seemed to fill the air and another explosion of light followed.

“Maurice?” Adam opened his eyes. They hadn't changed at least. “What happened?”

“You broke the curse!” Cogsworth cried. They turned at the exclamation and watched as Cogsworth and Lumiere both changed in an instant, full grown men sparking into place where a clock and candelabra had been moments before. 

“I don't know how you did it, but we are free!” Lumiere crowed happily.

“Broken?” Adam asked, and lifted his hand. “It's broken?”

“So it would seem,” Maurice smiled at him. He looked so young like this. “You're going to need new clothes.”

“Oh,” Adam looked down at his tattered shirt and then up to where an awed Belle stood flushing violently. 

“Belle, would you ask the others about clothes for Adam?”

“Y-yes,” Belle stammered. “Yes, I'll just- I'll go.”

Lumiere and Cogsworth followed on her heels, hurrying to check the others no doubt. The whole of the castle was shifting around them as the curse unwound itself. 

“How are you feeling?” Maurice knew very little about magic, but he hoped the transformation hadn't been painful.

“It was you,” Adam said.

“I'm sorry?”

“You broke the spell. The Enchantress. _Until you have found someone to love you as you are, you shall remain forever as a beast_ ,” Adam quoted her and then looked up at Maurice. “You said you loved me.”

“I would have said so earlier if that's all it took,” he stated matter-of-factly. Magic and its ridiculous rules. Honestly. Adam surged forward and embraced him. “There now. Do you feel all right? Are you hungry? I'd be hungry after something like that.” 

As if in answer, Mrs. Potts appeared, and while he'd never seen her in human form Maurice knew her right away.

“I've brought your clothing, my lord,” she smiled warmly and curtseyed.

“Mrs. Potts!” Adam took the clothing gratefully and hugged her.

“Oh! Go on and change,” she shooed him off. Adam pressed a kiss to her cheek and retreated to do as he was told.

“Well done, you,” she nudged Maurice with her elbow.

“Me? I didn't do anything. Not intentionally.”

“I think that was rather the point actually.” The housekeeper surveyed the pristine plaster, restored artwork, and lush drapery. “Well, the spell has set things quite to rights. Though I'll be just as happy never to see another speck of magic again.”

“Agreed. Poor Belle. She'll be so disappointed.”

“With the castle's wealth restored, I'm sure we could find tutors enough to keep her busy. Lord knows, Adam will need to be caught up as well.”

“I hadn't thought of that.” Oh dear. This was going to mean more than new clothes, wasn't it?

“Hadn't thought of what?” Adam stepped back into the room, quite resplendent in his royal finery. “I don't remember everything being this tight.”

“You'll get used to it again, never you worry.” Mrs. Potts fussed with his hair. “I was just saying, people will take notice of the castle again with the spell gone.”

“Oh no, I-”

“Cogsworth will manage it to start. No doubt he's already conspiring with Lumiere. We've had ten years of boredom to think about what we'd do if the spell was broken. You just let us do our jobs. We don't need magic for that.”

“I'm a Prince again, aren't I? Everything's changing,” Adam looked to Maurice, and went rigid. “You're still staying aren't you?”

It wasn't the first time Maurice was struck by how, for someone who'd seemingly been cursed for selfishness and arrogance, Adam was perpetually bracing himself for abandonment. 

“Did you not listen to a word I said?” he chastised the prince. “You're stuck with us now. Though I suppose our to do list just got considerably shorter. And you'll be busy with royal duties.”

Belle appeared in the doorway again, a little hesitant.

“You've no excuse now,” Mrs. Potts said to Adam before going to fetch Belle closer. “Belle!”

“I won't be.” Adam fussed with his jacket. 

“Sorry?”

“Too busy. Not for- not for family.” Maurice's heart swelled at the hopeful expression on Adam's face.

Mrs. Potts and Belle joined them then, finally allowing for the two to be properly introduced. Adam did his best with an awkward bow and Belle attempted a rather shaky curtsey, shy smiles exchanged all round. After offering Belle his arm, Adam led her downstairs. Mrs. Potts winked at Maurice as they followed and he found himself catching on quickly for once. 

Oh. Was that how it was going to be? Well. At least Belle and Adam could sort it out for themselves now, without being locked in a room together, thank you. After all, there was more than one way to join a family, wasn't there?


End file.
